


Stairway To Heaven

by Ivy_Brooks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Bathing/Washing, Breathplay, Butt Plugs, Chains, Collars, Cuffs, Dirty Talk, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Post-Coital Cuddling, Schmoop, Sleepy Cuddles, Spanking, Sub Dean, baths together uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 10:45:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2425883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivy_Brooks/pseuds/Ivy_Brooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Dean had to do was just go up the stairs. Simple enough… right?</p><p>(In which Cas is a rough dom and stupidly sappy with the aftercare. Dean loves it though.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stairway To Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist the title. I'm so sorry.

"Go on Dean. Up the steps, you can do it."

In any other scenario, that sentence would've been entirely plausible. Dean could've done it easy. _Would_ have done it easy.

Except, this wasn't 'any other scenario'. This was a scenario where Dean had a leash attached to a collar fitted snug around his neck, on all fours, butt-naked at the base of the stairs. A chain connected both of his wrists, the middle link of the chain hooked into a loop on the collar; he could barely move his arms without choking himself.  

So, definitely not a normal scenario.

"I said _move_."

Dean leapt when Cas' hand, solid and unrelenting, landed a slap on his bare ass. The spike of pain made his cock throb between his legs, and he had to bite his lip to prevent himself from making a sound. Cas hadn't said he could moan yet, and he knew what would happen if he disobeyed his master's orders. The last time he'd disobeyed, he hadn't been allowed to come for a solid two weeks, and at the end of it, Cas had taken a vindictive pleasure in tearing him apart, piece by piece whilst he dangled from an S hook attached to the ceiling. A shiver travelled down his spine at the memory.

Careful, he began the seemingly never-ending trek upstairs. He lifted a hand, the chain connecting his wrists clinking as he did so. There was just enough give to move up a step - as if Cas had friggin' _measured_ the distance before hand.

Fingers ran reverently through his hair, tugging lightly. "Good boy. See, now that wasn't so difficult, was it?"

Dean shook his head, swallowing thickly. "No, sir."

"Only thirteen more to go."

Dean inwardly groaned. At this pace they'd never make it to the bedroom.

With that thought in mind, he took the next eight steps as fast as he could, a constant pressure on his throat where the collar was pulled between the chains linking his arms and the leash that Cas held, unrelenting. The tightness of the collar left Dean breathless at times, making his vision blur, and he'd have to stop and lean on the wall for support. At which point, Cas would smack his ass again, leaning in close, breath harsh at Dean's ear as he said something low and threatening.

"Did I say you could rest?"

"I suppose you don't want to come today if you're being this slow..."

"Lazy _slut_."

The insults left Dean hot and shaky, his mind going fuzzy as flames licked up his insides. His cock was fucking _dripping,_ his balls settled heavy between his thighs. God, he couldn't take this much longer. Only five steps. Five steps and they'd be on the landing, thank _fuck_.

"I think you're finding this too easy, Dean." Cas hummed thoughtfully as Dean clambered over the tenth step. The taller man's eyes widened - that tone was never good. Cas was up to something - and then Dean heard a rustle. It was Cas reaching into his shirt pocket.

Oh _fuck_. No, no Dean could cope with the bondage and the chains, but not -

The butt plug rammed deep in Dean's ass leapt to life, and _fuck_ , he couldn't hold back the cry that leapt from his throat because shit, the fucking thing was vibrating _right against_ that tiny spot that lit Dean up from the inside, and -

"How many times, Dean." Cas said over the buzzing, and suddenly, the black haired man was sat a few steps above, leash pulled taut in his fist whilst his other hand clutched the remote for the butt plug. His eyes locked with Dean's own, steely blue against soft green, and he dropped the leash, choosing instead to reach down, fingers digging into Dean's jaw, forcing the taller man to lean all his weight into Cas' hold. It made it hard to breathe. "How many times do I have to tell you? Don't -" Cas clicked up the settings once, thumb flicking the dial, "- make -" again, this time by two. Dean nearly screamed, "- _a sound_."

Dean's knees were shaking, eyes wet with un-shed tears as he nodded through the onslaught of sensations. When he spoke, his voice was faint - cracked and broken.

"Yes sir. I - I'm sorry, sir." He licked his dry lips, balancing precariously on his knees, gasping for air, "It won't - it won't happen again, sir."

Cas pocketed the control and tugged the leash. Dean lurched forwards into Cas' hand.

"It better not." Cas growled. "Now get the fuck up those stairs before I drag you up them."

Dean very nearly whimpered at that. Cas had this steel, hard-as-rock expression on his face, and his voice ground on Dean's ears, making precome spill from his cock. He was so fucking _hard_.

Cas let go of Dean's jaw, nails scraping harshly as Dean fell back on the steps, pulling in lungfuls of oxygen with loud breaths, chains clinking. He didn't have long to recover. Cas slapped him once more, his hardest yet, and Dean felt his knees burn against the carpet with how hard he jerked.

"Move." One word, laced with power and deadly quiet. Dean's heart thumped harder at the command, blood rushing in his ears. He obeyed, body bending stiffly as he crawled up the last of the steps with weak knees, his lips swollen with how hard his teeth were digging into them. The vibrations in his ass were sending awful zips of pleasure firing up his spine, and it was only when he fell forwards did he realise he'd run out of steps to climb; he'd gone so dizzy with sensations, he'd entirely forgotten what the fuck he was doing.

Cas' hand, soothing and steady, ran down the taller man's sweat-drenched back, bringing him back to the present. Dean couldn't help it - he arched into the touch, desperate for more contact than what he was getting. It was a small relief, and it lasted mere _seconds_.

"Could've been better." Cas' fingers pinched the swell of Dean's ass, twisting sharply. Dean bit his tongue in surprise, his dick twitching at the spike of pain. "We'll have to work on your efficiency."

That way Cas spoke about him - like he was a machine, as opposed to a human being... _God_ , it turned him on. It shouldn't have - it _really_ shouldn't have - but being treated like a thing that was only to be used for slapping around and fucking hard? It was too damn hot for words.

"You may stand."

Dean hurried to his feet, nearly strangling himself as he pushed himself up - the chains linking his wrists to his neck were short, and they only gave him enough length for his hands to dangle by his navel. If he extended his arms too much, his collar constricted around his throat, and it made the process of standing up that much more difficult - let alone the tight pressure at the back of his neck, where Cas was pulling the slack of his leash.

The new, upright position forced Dean's thighs closer together, and the butt plug shifted deeper, drawing another load of tears to gather in the corners of his eyes. Too much pleasure and he couldn't make a single goddamn sound.

"Good." Cas muttered, "At least you didn't mess that instruction up." One hand wrapped in Dean's hair, the searing spikes of pain making Dean hiss through his teeth. "Start walking."

Dean didn't walk in the end - he was dragged by Cas' unrelenting hand in his hair, barely able to pick up his feet as the shorter man tugged him along the hallway and into the bedroom. On a particularly forceful tug, Dean couldn't help the swear that left his throat, immediately regretting it when Cas paused them before the foot of the bed.

"What was that?" Cas asked, voice barely a whisper, sending blood rushing south. Dean could just feel the brush of the shorter man's lips at his ear. "What did you just say to me?"

Cas was pulling on Dean's hair, tighter and tighter and damn it all, Dean's cock was still hard, curving towards his abs and fuck, what the hell was _wrong_ with him -

"N-nothing!" He blurted, arching against Cas' chest, trying to relieve the pain searing down his scalp, "Nothing, sir, sir _please_ -"

"Don't fucking _lie_ , Dean." Oh shit, now Cas was pulling the damn _leash_ too. Dean couldn't fucking _breathe_. "You know what happens to liars, don't you?"

Dean nodded, holding in his last breath. His vision was starting to go blotchy. It was as if from a different dimension he felt Cas release the hold on his hair, reaching around to the aching erection at Dean's front and wrapping his hand around it. But _fuck_ , did he feel it when Cas dug his thumbnail into the slit. He couldn't hold the scream that tore from his throat.

"I wanted an answer, _whore_."

"They - they get punished." Dean croaked, the last of his breath leaving as he spat out the sentence between exhales. His muscles were relaxing, body drooping in Cas' hold, his mind starting to go dark. Just as the haze was starting to become thick - just as Dean was reaching for the safeword - Cas released his grip on the leash, unclipping it with deft fingers and shoving Dean forwards onto the bedspread, panting and shaking. He didn't know when or how it had happened (he wasn't taking in much) but Cas had, mercifully, turned off the butt plug, allowing Dean to breathe for a moment. Every breath dragged in and out of his lungs, head spinning with every intake of oxygen.

"I'm in a good mood today, Dean." Cas' voice moved from one side of the room to the other. Dean couldn't tell which side was which. All he knew right now was the fact that he could rut into the bedspread, hips moving in lazy circles as he searched desperately for any kind of friction. His body felt like it was floating and if you asked him what his favourite colour was he'd have probably answered something along the lines of  'sixteen'.

"You should be thankful for that. Had I been in a worse mood, I could've easily paddled you twenty times for speaking out of turn like you did."

Something was making a clicking sound. Dean was coming back to himself now, and dear _God_ , he prayed Cas wasn't picking up the spreader bar - the goddamn thing made him feel so damn _open_. Vulnerable and helpless and - okay, maybe he sort of liked the spreader bar, but that was besides the point.

Much closer this time, Cas voice sounded. "Turn around. On your back, Dean."

The taller man did as he was told, scrambling up the bed to lie flat, his hands above his head, one wrist clutched in the other. His chains fell to the pillows either side of him, pooling where neck his met shoulder, cold metal against flushed skin. Dean stared straight up at the ceiling; he knew better than to look for Cas - if he caught those blue eyes without permission he didn't know what the fuck Cas would do. He'd already earned punishment - he didn't exactly want _more_.

The mattress dipped as Cas came closer, and suddenly Dean's swollen lips were met by Cas' own; the shorter man cupped Dean's face, soft mouth slanted against Dean's whilst he nestled more firmly between the taller man's legs. Dean could feel the hard jut of Cas' cock through the material of his work slacks, and the feel of that crisp white shirt meeting his hot skin was like a blessing - although, he'd definitely prefer it if Cas were naked.

Cas leant up, and Dean chased his lips as far as his neck would allow; the shorter man seemed to find this amusing, blue eyes twinkling in the dim of the room.

"Eager, Dean?" He asked with a tilt of his head, palm running over Dean's ribs, fingers gentle as they ran over each bump.

"Yes sir." He said quietly, a tiny smirk curling the corner of his lips - a minute nod to the real world. The world where he and Cas would snuggle on the couch and play video games, or where they'd have food fights in the kitchen, and Cas would get all pouty if Dean got egg in his hair. The world that was outside this one. "Very eager."

The twinkle in Cas' eyes dissipated, pulling away, breaking the moment. Those gentle fingers turned harsh, nails scraping blunt lines into Dean's skin, making the taller man arch against the mattress

"You won't be when I'm through with you." Cas said. He reached up, unhooking the chain connecting Dean's wrists from the collar, leaning forwards and attaching it to the metal loop at the center of the bed's headboard instead. Dean's hands couldn't move any further than below his shoulders. _Fuck_.

"Make as much noise as you want Dean." Cas voice, rough and silky worked it's way into Dean's head like a poisonous balm. "I don't mind if the neighbours hear you scream."

And then Cas' mouth - sinful, _talented_ fucking mouth - began kissing its way down Dean's chest, hot little presses of lips and teasing licks of tongue, tracing each contour with a reverence that had Dean gasping on the bedspread, wrists pulling at his cuffs. He wanted to tangle a hand in Cas' hair, wanted to guide the shorter man's mouth downwards, wanted to fuck his mouth, wanted - God, he didn't even _know_. He _wanted_ , and that was all he could think about.

Dean groaned when Cas' teeth grazed a nipple, and _then_ \- then the punishment started.

Cas worked like a fucking _strategist_ , Dean would give him that; his mouth worked one nipple over, licking around the nub and biting down, before pulling away and blowing on it, before biting down again, harder and harder until -

"Sir!" Dean gasped, pain spiking outwards from where Cas' teeth were biting down, pressure increasing until the pain was white-hot, making Dean's cock leak over his abs and his knees quake where they dug into Cas' sides. "Sir please - _please_ -"

Cas ignored him, biting harder ever still, and Dean writhed, holding back every noise until the sadistic fucker _twisted_ and dammit, he couldn't help it - he fucking _screamed_.

As if he'd been waiting for the hoarse noise, Cas let go of Dean's nipple, soothing it with his tongue and pulling away. Dean slumped against the bed, his chest throbbing dully as sweat beaded his brow. He was breathing heavy, unable to cope and -

" _Fuck!_ " He yelped, eyes snapping wide open when the pain came back in full - but this time it wasn't Cas' mouth. It was cold metal - a _clamp_. Cas had just fucking _clamped_ him and holy _shit_ it hurt like a motherfucker. "Shit, _sir...!_ "

Cas tutted. "You curse like a sailor, Dean." His breath ghosted over Dean's pectorals, and the taller man knew what was coming before Cas even finished speaking, "I suppose you'll just have to learn the hard way."

Giving the first clamp one last twist that had Dean throwing his head back, Cas began his work on the other side. They were so closely pressed together that Dean could allow himself the pleasure of locking his legs in place, rutting against Cas' naval whilst Cas laid a tiny trail of kisses across the other side of Dean's chest, licking a long stripe over the taller man's nipple and repeating the same process all over again. Over and over, until Dean's lip was starting to bleed from where he was worrying it between his teeth, determined not to swear, and God, he'd never utter the words 'fuck' or 'shit' again if it meant _this_ torture -

Pain cut clean through his thoughts when Cas popped the other clamp down, snapping it shut and twisting and twisting and _twisting_ -

" _CAS!_ " Dean cried, forgetting that he was supposed to say 'sir', "Oh God _please_ , no more, _no more_ -"

"No swears." Cas cut in thoughtfully, uncaring as he continued twisting, grabbing the first clamp and doing the same. Dean saw stars. "Good boy, Dean. You're learning. Albeit slowly, but... you're learning."

And - thank merciful _Jesus_ wherever he was - Cas released the clamps, leaving them on Dean's nipples for the time being. He carried on his way down Dean's chest, pressing kisses over the taller man's soft stomach as it rolled with every ragged breath he dragged through his nose. The gentle press of Cas' mouth was like medicine, and it distracted Dean from the the throbbing ache flaring across his chest, even if only for a while.

When Cas took Dean's hard cock into his mouth however - that was whole different _ball game_ of distraction.

" _Sir..._ " Dean moaned, obscene as the shorter man manoeuvred Dean's legs to rest on Cas' shoulders, sucking him all the way down to the base and fuck, Cas' mouth was fucking _scorching_ , a blissful relief from the aches clamouring for attention across the rest of Dean's body, "Oh God - sir, sir _faster_ -"

To Dean's fucking _immense_ surprise, Cas listened, bobbing his head at a goddamn _ruthless_ pace, hot tongue licking thick lines of _delicious_ friction on the underside of Dean's cock, up-down, up-down, and _God_ , Dean was surprised he hadn't accidentally strangled the guy with his thighs yet he was tensing so hard. It was too good. Too _much._ It had Dean's hands fisting in their cuffs, eyes screwed shut and - wait, wait was Cas - oh _fuck_ , Cas' other hand was playing with the butt plug, nimble fingers clutching the plastic base and pulling it out, real fucking slow, before pushing it back in again, thrusts getting longer and longer each time.

Teasing. Cas was fucking _teasing_ him.

It all culminated so quickly - the thrusts became faster, _harder_ , and Cas' mouth became tighter and hotter and _fuck,_ Dean was going to come. He was gonna shoot all over Cas' face and fuck, _fuck_ he was -

Cas stopped. Everything. He let go of the plug, his mouth left Dean's cock, and as if that wasn't enough, he reached up and pulled off both clamps. At once.

Dean hadn't ever screamed someone's name so loudly before.

A group of tears rolled down Dean's face, his legs trembling, spitting out a pathetic sob as he felt the orgasm-that-never-was get washed away in the wave of pain that stole through his body. He couldn't take this. Cas was being a fucking _bastard_.

"So pretty when you cry for me, Dean." Cas hummed, sitting back up and running his thumb along Dean's cheekbone, catching a stray tear with the pad of it. He forced his thumb between Dean's bitten lips. "Suck."

Dean obligated, licking Cas' thumb clean, every inch of his body feeling like it was on fire. It was as if every nerve ending in his body had just been simultaneously split open, leaving him raw and aching and turned on. Jesus, when Cas punished he fucking _punished_.

But goddamn - Dean couldn't deny that he loved the way Cas' gaze was locked on his. He was turning Cas on, he could see it. Each time he bobbed his head to suck Cas' thumb, the shorter man's pupils seemed to get bigger, threatening to break the blue they were in. There was a blush high on Cas cheeks, and Dean felt another bead of precome drip from his cock, knowing Cas was getting all hot and bothered. Over _Dean_. God fucking _damn_...

"Has anyone ever told you that you have cocksucker lips, Dean?" Cas continued, fucking Dean's mouth with his thumb, languid. Like he had all the time in the fucking world. "Plump, cocksucking lips. You were just born to be my perfect little whore, no?"

Cas pulled his thumb away, and Dean's mind reacted far too slowly to realise that his master had wanted an answer. Like a switch being flicked, Cas' mouth twisted into a snarl, and he'd slapped Dean hard across the face before the taller man could even begin to understand what he'd done wrong.

"Answer me when I talk to you." Cas ground out, a hand reaching down between them to pinch one of Dean's oversensitised nipples. "Fucking _answer me_ , Dean."

Pain shot through Dean's body, a sob ripping itself from his chest as his whole body tensed, the side of his face throbbing, the threat of further punishment making him run his mouth.

"Was born - was born to be your perfect whore, sir." He repeated, yelping when Cas twisted.

"Word," twist, "- for -" _twist_ , "- _word_."

Dean nodded hurriedly. "I was - I was born to - _oh God_ \- I was born to be your perfect little whore." Dean panted, trying in vain to pull away from Cas' hand, "Just for you sir - born to be yours -"

Cas made some unearthly noise in the back of his throat, leaning down to catch Dean's lips in a burning kiss, just for a moment, before burning through his seemingly never-ending patience and sliding off the bed, undressing quickly. Dean was given a moment to recuperate - clear the fuzziness clouding his head, just for a moment, while Cas pulled off his shirt and unbuttoned his slacks, slipping out of his boxers and socks after that.

The bed creaked as Cas slipped back on, one leg sliding gracefully over Dean's body. Cas was straddling his chest, thick cock mere _inches_ from Dean's face, shiny with precome and - fuck, had Cas been _that_ flushed before? The taller man's cock jerked with interest between his legs.

"Open your mouth."

Dean obeyed, loosening his throat muscles in anticipation of what was to come. Cas hooked his thumb into the corner of Dean's mouth, stretching the taller man's lips wide whilst his free hand gripped his cock, guiding the head to run over Dean's lips, smearing precome across them in a downright _filthy_ way.

"Fuck, _Dean_." Cas gasped, voice nearing a low, gravelly tone that made Dean's cock _ache_.

"Always so fucking _good_ for me."

In one smooth roll of his hips, Cas slid home, cock hitting the back of Dean's throat, filling the taller man's senses with nothing but hot skin and an earthy smell he'd only ever associated with Cas. He went to work almost immediately, using what little leverage he had to bob his head, flicking the tip of his tongue around the glans before the tip - he would've continued, had Cas not wrapped both of his hands in the hair at Dean's crown and pulled him back into the pillows.

"Stay _still_." He growled, pumping his cock down Dean's throat, pace turning downright _feral_ , "You're nothing but a couple of holes for me to fuck, understand?"

Dean's eyelids fluttered, a small groan escaping his throat as Cas began fucking his face with intent, nails digging into Dean's scalp as his strong runner's thighs flexed with every snap of hips. Dean was quite happy to sit back and enjoy the show; he and Cas had gotten rid of his gag reflex _years_ ago, so Dean didn't exactly have to worry about choking to death any time soon.

A glorious flush was adorning Cas' body now - his pale throat was tinged pink, nipples peaked and hard whilst his hair sat, dishevelled and messy, atop his head. His eyes were screwed shut, mouth agape, and honest to _God_ , it felt like he got deeper on each thrust, tugging Dean's head back and forth like the hairs on his head were handles - and Cas was grabbing _fistfuls_ of them.

"Oh fuck - Dean," Cas panted, his hips starting to lose their rhythm, "Dean - _Dean_."

Cas came with a silent cry, pulling out at the last minute to shoot his load all over Dean's face. Come splattered Dean's lips, his cheek, eyebrows and God fucking _damn_ , it was the hottest shit Dean had ever _seen_. He held his mouth wide open, determined to catch as much come on his tongue as he could, very nearly cracking a smirk at the debauched, fucked-out expression Cas had on his face afterwards.

"Such a good slut." Cas panted, bending over double to meet Dean's lips, groaning when he tasted himself on Dean's tongue. Dean reciprocated enthusiastically, running his tongue along the seam of Cas' lips, head tilting. How the fuck he'd landed someone so fucking hot was beyond him.

"Would you like to come now?" Cas breathed against his lips, "Would you like to come, Dean?"

"Please, sir." Dean all but pleaded, his cock lying thick and neglected against his stomach. "Please."

Cas gave him one, secret little smile, before sliding down between Dean's legs, hand wrapping around the taller man's cock and pumping him so fucking _fast_ that his hand was just a pale blur, precome and saliva slicking the way and _fuck_ , it was over embarrassingly quickly. The slow build of heat that had been burning in Dean's gut for the best part of half an hour _exploded_ outwards, lacing through his sinews like fiery ribbon as he shot his load over Cas' fist, toes curling, a loud cry of Castiel's name on his lips, vision going dark for what felt like _years._ He'd been waiting for this for so long. So, so fucking _long_ and God, it felt too good to be _real_ and -

Things got real fuzzy after that.

Dean didn't quite remember how, but when he was coherent enough to understand what his own name was, he realised his hands were uncuffed, and his head was in Cas' lap whilst the shorter man ran his fingers through the blonde spikes atop his head, digits careful and knowing as they worked illegible patterns over Dean's head. A glass of water was being pressed against his aching lips, and he drank it down greedily.

"Are you okay?" Castiel asked softly, his hand gentle as it stroked stray bits of hair away from Dean's forehead, "I wasn't too rough?"

Dean laughed, his voice croaky. "You're always too rough." He grinned dopily, nuzzling into Cas' thigh, "I love it."

Cas chuckled lightly, pulling the glass away and helping Dean sit up; the taller man ended up slumped against Cas' chest, feeling extremely dopey and ridiculously weak in the knees because Cas was doing that _thing_ again. Where he got all _touchy-feely_ , like he usually did after a scene. And Dean...well Dean fucking _relished_ it. Relished Cas' hands, running up and down his arms like he was something to be treasured; relished the tiny kisses being pressed to his nape, worshipping him, adoring him. He _loved_ it. Loved the way Cas treated him. It made him feel wanted - and God knew he hadn't often felt _that_ growing up.

"I have a bath running." Cas murmured into Dean's ear, "Would you like to have one, or are you too tired?"

Good question. Dean felt like fucking _lead_ , to be honest, but he didn't want to pass up this version of Cas - the one that couldn't stop touching Dean, kissing him, _holding_ him. Cas did all those things anyway, wonderful fucking person he was - but this was different. It was intimate and stupidly sappy. Caring. _Concerned_.

"Bath." Dean mumbled, the word rolling off of his tongue like a slur. Cas laughed, his hand running down the length of Dean's arm to loop their fingers together, his hold gentle. It still amazed Dean - knowing the rough, painful things those hands could do, and yet here they were, fucking _caressing_ him. How was that even _possible_?

"You're so _eloquent_ , Dean." Cas muttered, planting a kiss to the bolt of Dean's jaw. Dean's heart did a little erratic jump in his chest. "Wait here; I'll go finish it off."

With much sleepy protesting on Dean's part, Cas stood, leaving Dean lying flat-out on the bed, sated and out of it.

 

**-o-o-o-**

 

"Mmm..." Dean hummed, still pretty drowsy as Cas ran his expert hands through the taller man's wet hair, gradually turning the shampoo into a thick lather that dripped down Dean's back in soft, frothy bubbles, "To the left a little."

"This isn't a head massage, Dean," Cas sounded amused, humour in those low vocals, "I'm merely washing your hair."

Dean grinned, leaning back into Cas' firm form, warm with steam and wet with bath water whilst the shorter man's fingers rubbed absolute _miracles_ into his scalp. "Feels good though." Dean hummed in a approval when Cas rubbed circles into a sore spot, where he'd been tugging mere minutes before. "Yeah - yeah that's... that's nice."

Dean's eyelids were starting to drift shut, and he couldn't resist laying his head back on Cas' shoulder, hair soapy and body still soaking wet. Cas' shoulder made a nice pillow, he decided. It was firm, but soft in the places where it counted. Maybe he could take a nap here - just a quick one; after all, he knew he shouldn't fall asleep, not _yet..._

But dammit, he was too damn happy to _not_ fall asleep.

 

**-o-o-o-**

 

When he woke, he was in bed, surrounded by about a hundred squishy pillows and wrapped in a thick duvet, sunlight streaming in through the window, with only a few vague memories of how Cas had had to drag them out of the tub the night before. It saddened him a little, to not wake up with Cas beside him - but then he sniffed the smell of bacon and something else that smelled suspiciously like pancakes wafting through the house, and his lips tipped up into an automatic smile.

He was sore, aching, and still absolutely exhausted. But he was clean, content, and had the best damn husband in the world.

That was all that mattered.


End file.
